


Island Josh

by captainlandwhaleamerica



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Fluff and Fruity Drinks, Hawaii, I mean I assume it's Hawaii, Miscommunication, Post-Episode: s07e19 Transition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:10:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainlandwhaleamerica/pseuds/captainlandwhaleamerica
Summary: “You’ve got a look on your face that tells me you’re not in Hawaii anymore”A sunset walk becomes something much more significant and beautiful for Josh and Donna.





	Island Josh

**Author's Note:**

> Alllrighty. So I had a lot of trouble with this one. It started out as just a drabble fic, and then I read this story that Lin Manuel Miranda and his wife first said those three little words with this exchange:   
> "You love me"   
> "Yeah"   
> And I thought, that's totally Josh and Donna. So I tried my best to incorporate it into this, and I'm not sure whether I like it...but I'm sure y'all will let me know.

It was a situation Josh Lyman never would have seen himself living. In fact, if someone had showed him a photo of this moment four months ago, he would have blatantly and loudly accused them of manipulation. He probably would have also thrown in treason, blackmail and racketeering, just for good measure. And yet, here he was, barefoot, in a t-shirt and shorts (bought three days ago in the airport), walking down a freaking beach, one hand linked with Donna’s, drink topped with comically small umbrella in the other. Without his phone, which hadn’t left his side in over a decade. Josh was certain it wasn’t all a dream either, mostly because he had already pinched himself at least thirty-five times. Granted, thirty of those were after he discovered it made Donna laugh, but his point still stood. 

It was kind of sky that D.C. never offered. Or at least that he had never glanced outside his window to see. It looked as if someone had taken a pink highlighter to the horizon until the entire world was more magenta than blue. The waves lapped happily against the sand, tired out from contiguous hours spent making unrelenting passes at the beach. Josh, aware of the chilling similarity to his own career, stopped at the water’s edge to let the waves wash over his feet over and over so he sunk down into the wet sand. 

Donna, eager to continue their sunset walk, tugged on his hand, “You’ve got a look on your face that tells me you’re not in Hawaii anymore” 

He grinned at her and gestured to his submerged feet, “Bipartisanship!” he said with more than a small amount of boyish pride. 

“Are Democrats the water or the sand?” She responded, understanding his lame joke right away. 

“I hadn’t really gotten past the metaphorical significance of me standing at the point where two very different things meet” 

She let out a breath of amusement, “Ahhh. Very typical” 

“You wouldn’t be so judgmental if you were participating in the metaphorical significance of the moment” 

“Is that so?” 

“It’s very humbling” 

“Really? I didn’t know you were capable of feeling anything other than arrogance” 

“Bipartisanship changes a person. You should try it sometime” 

She shook her head in disbelief, “Who are you and what have you done with Josh Lyman?” 

“I am no longer Josh Lyman, Donnatella. I am Island Josh, drinker of fruity drinks, wearer of no shoes and,” he paused for effect, “Master of the Metaphorical Significance of Bipartisanship!” 

She laughed aloud at this declaration and his heart forgot to beat in rhythm. Donna’s smile always seemed to have such an effect on him. He used to find it distracting, frustrating to the point where he’d yell at her unnecessarily and rather unfairly. But things had irrevocably changed since that early morning before the election, and now her smile brought him long-awaited peace. It took a heavy weight off his chest and the heartburn that never seemed to fade no matter how much Pepto-Bismol he consumed would vanish under her shining gaze. It was Donna, the malady for all ills. It always would be Donna, who could somehow take his breath away and give it back in the same moment. 

“Josh?” She interjected into his silent reverie, as he realized he missed her response. 

“Sorry what?”

“I asked you how long Island Josh was planning on staying with us?” 

“’You don’t like Island Josh?” He asked, bewildered. 

Her face, half-illuminated by the descending sun, was suddenly serious. She stepped closer to him, no doubt recognizing the look of panic that crossed his face. 

“Not that’s not it,” she raised her hand to touch his slightly-sunburned face, running her thumb lightly along his cheekbone, “Island Josh is wonderful. Island Josh is unbelievable and fascinating. Island Josh finds joy in waves and lack of shoes and local culture. Island Josh is weirdly and dangerously obsessed with drinks that include little umbrellas— “

“Hey you ordered this for me!” He interrupted, “I distinctly remember because I protested due to the inevitable detrimental effect it was bound to have on my masculinity but you said ‘Don’t be ridiculous Josh’ and shoved it into my hand—” He stopped suddenly, “My voice got really high there didn’t it?” 

“Yes,” she assured him, unable to keep the grin off her face, “but in a very masculine way” 

Glaring at her, he set his now empty drink down in the sand before returning to his tirade, “My point is still valid though. The drink was pressured onto me! If I happen to enjoy it and express that joy to you that is totally independent of the situation and should not correspond with any discussion of my manhood now or in the future and you are currently not interested in that argument because the look you’re giving me is not what one would call an encouraging— “ 

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up now” 

“Okay” Damnit if his voice didn’t rise three octaves again. 

“Island Josh is wonderful…” she paused and for a moment it looked like she wouldn’t say anymore. Her obvious loss for words filled him with uncertainty. Donna always knew what to say, how to say it, when to say it. He was supposed to be the one who stumbled around and said too much or not enough. Disconcerted, he searched her eyes for answers and found the thing he always saw there, now given new meaning under the dying fire of the sun and the lack of lines to cross. 

“Island Josh is wonderful, but you don’t love him,” he answered for her. She looked down at their feet, letting out a breath of relief and laughter. “But I thought— “

“See that’s where you usually get into trouble” She glanced back up at his face, “Oh don’t look so astonished, Josh” 

He tried again. “But I thought Island Josh was what you wanted” 

“What on earth would make you think that?” 

“Isn’t Island Josh better? He’s calm, healthy, relaxed, he’s got free time and no distractions. He’s good enough, he’s— “ 

“He’s not you. Which is kind of the whole point. He’s not you. I love you. Not some idealized, fantasy, sappy romantic comedy version of yourself, but you,” she poked him with each accentuated word, right over his now wildly beating heart, “And you are argumentative, loud, and aggressive. You are determined and loyal and unbelievably disillusioned most of the time. You have helped create and foster a successful leader of the free world and you’re about to go do it again. All this,” she gestured at the beach, “it’s temporary. Island Josh has no place in the Santos administration. So no, Island Josh is not what I want, alright?” 

“You love me” He grinned from ear to ear and closed the space between them, wrapping his arms around her waist. Focusing on only a small part of her impassioned speech would annoy her to no end, which he knew very well. 

“Shut up” 

‘You love me” 

“Don’t pretend that this is some grand revelation!” She tried to break free of his embrace, but he held her fast. His mocking tone turned serious, and although the words remained a statement, his eyes asked a question and demanded a response. 

“You love me” 

A long pause as they stared at each other. She was right, it wasn’t a surprise. The admission didn’t take his breath away or shake his world to its core. It was simply an affirmation, a cadence that had previously gone unresolved for the last eight years, something real to move forward with. 

“Yeah,” she breathed, “I do” 

He leaned forward and kissed her softly. It felt like progress. It felt like a step on solid ground, their first in God knows when. It felt like home. He pulled back after a long moment, grin plastered on his face. 

“I do too, you know” 

She narrowed her eyes at him accusingly, “Wow. I’m floored by that truly romantic statement, Joshua Lyman. Every girl wants to hear those three little words, so short but they mean so much!” She put her hand to her heart dramatically, “Call an ambulance, my heart’s about to burst from pure happiness!” 

“Oh, shut up,” he said, accentuating his words by pulling her back in. The waves (definitely Democrats, he had decided) washed over their feet as the fiery magenta was replaced with the navy black tint of twilight, but together they remained, steadfastly braving the uncertainty where two very different things met, now and forevermore.


End file.
